


Unexpected Things

by Volky888



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, bodyguard John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 09:33:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20190097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Volky888/pseuds/Volky888
Summary: As far as plans go, John’s one mantra was always to plan for the unexpected. His plan to work for the D’Antonio family included the following expectations: a young bratty Camorra prince, multiple assassination attempts geared towards said young bratty Camorra prince, and a sizable income to make up for putting up with all of it. The unexpected element was the copious amount of thinly veiled flirting directed his way by his young ward.If John were any less disciplined about his work, he might even admit that the lingering glances the young Italian tended to reserve for him were not unwelcome.





	Unexpected Things

**Author's Note:**

> John works as Santino’s bodyguard in his 30s. Kidnap (young-camorra-leader-nap) fic.

If Santino had to describe John Wick in one word, he’d use grim. The man was hired by Santino’s father to protect his son in the family’s exploits to expand the business overseas. And while the man known as the Bogeyman was undoubtedly the best at what he does, his solemn approach to life makes even Ares look positively cheerful in comparison.

Santino looked up from the couch he was lounging on as he caught John’s figure quietly walking over, nodding at Ares as he passed the door to Santino’s suite at the New York Continental. He kept his gaze on the dark haired man until John stood right in front of him, looming over Santino in a way that was perfectly normal, yet somehow made the Italian’s pulse quicken just a little. He’s always had a stupid weakness for strong, silent types, Santino mused to himself.

“Your father’s just given me a small task to take care of here,” John said evenly, “I will be staying behind an extra day to complete it, but will rejoin you in Naples in time for Gianna’s birthday celebrations.”

Santino arched an eyebrow and grunted, his father was the one holding John’s leash, after all. “Fine. We will be departing as scheduled then.” He gestured to Ares by the door, who promptly left to notify the rest of the security detail. “I hope your task won’t hold you for too long,” Santino stood and leaned himself towards John, “the atmosphere is so… sullen without you around.” His smiled lightly and let his eyes trace the taller man’s lips before meeting his dark, unwavering eyes. When John only gave him a slight nod at the teasing, Santino backed away and made his way to the door.

“See you in Naples, John.”

#

As far as plans go, John’s one mantra was always to plan for the unexpected. His plan to work for the D’Antonio family included the following expectations: a young bratty Camorra prince, multiple assassination attempts geared towards said young bratty Camorra prince, and a sizable income to make up for putting up with all of it. The unexpected element was the copious amount of thinly veiled flirting directed his way by his young ward.

And further unexpected, the young Camorra leader wasn’t as much bratty as he was simply brash and ambitious, with a quick temper that lights up his clear green eyes when it comes. It was oddly endearing.

If John were any less disciplined about his work, he might even admit that the lingering glances the young Italian tended to reserve for him were not unwelcome.

The task that Mr. D’Antonio senior had left him with in New York was quickly taken care of. John was contemplating what to do with the rest of his day off before rejoining the group in Naples when his phone vibrated.

Message from Ares, - need you on an earlier flight, come immediately.-

John frowned, anything that would prompt Ares to ask for his help was bad news. – What’s the situation? –

-Just get your ass over here.- Came the reply. John sighed, pocketed his phone, and began making his way to the airport.

#

5 minutes after he landed in Naples, John Wick was on an armored black sedan with one very agitated Ares, gesturing rapidly to fill him in as they drove to the villa which acted as base of operations for their stay.

“We lost him in the airport, one minute he was going to the washroom and the next minute he was gone. Vanished into of thin air.” Ares gestured, lips pursed thinly at the memory, no doubt angry at herself for the mishap. “We locked the place down but could not find him. The boss is furious, we had just received the ransom video before you landed.”

“Kidnapped, for ransom?” John summarized.

“Not so much ransom as it is a cease and desist for all our New York based operations. Must be a conflict of interest.”

“Is he alive?” John asked, anger barely masked in his dark eyes.

“For now.” Came the reply.

They pulled up to the villa, John wasting no time to watch the ransom video for himself. Santino was dressed in the same outfit as when was last with John at the Continental. He was conscious in the video, strapped to a chair and gagged. There were cuts on his face, his messy curls were thrown into further disarray, but his eyes still burned with a promise of revenge as he stared down whoever was no doubt filming the whole thing. The video betrayed no signs of location or otherwise useful information, and as it ended into a black screen, John felt a deep animalistic feeling stir within himself. Someone had done this to _his_ ward. There’s a blood price for a decision like that.

“Mr. Wick,” A woman’s voice snapped him out of his trance. John looked up to find Gianna briskly walking over, shadowed by her ever loyal retainer Cassian. “Good of you to join us, we are quite distressed over my missing brother.” Gianna said curtly, “We have a currently list of business rivals in New York that would have incentive to conduct such a risky move, but it is proving difficult to narrow down a single suspect, if it is even the work of just one clan instead of an alliance.”

Ares pulled up a neat folder of profiles as Gianna spoke, handing it to John. “Our priority is to retrieve my dear brother alive. Whoever has done this will know the wrath of the D’Antonio family.” Gianna promised. “For now, we have a lead on a certain safe house in the Alps belonging to the Konstanz clan. You and Ares head there with a task force to check it out. Let God be on our side and pray you will return before my father bursts a vein from anger.”

Ares shared a look with John at that, signalling him to follow her. They were headed to Northern Italy immediately, and John was glad to be on the move. Time was always of essence in a kidnapping situation, and the D’Antonio can only buy so much time by temporarily pausing operations in New York. Besides, the image of Santino bloodied and tied to that chair burned in the back of his mind as he felt his bloodlust for vengeance grow stronger.

#

Gianna’s lead on the safe house turned out to be correct. Locals were wary to share information on the four blacked sedans that had passed through town before the arrival of John’s team. Surveillance cameras had been carefully wiped, but the D’Antonios were able to “convince” certain police officers to share information which now led John and Ares, along with seven other retainers, to the seemingly harmless cabin that sat on the Alps. Carefully taking out snipers set up to guard the house, Ares signalled John to begin the ground assault. Quietly shooting down the guards posted by the door, John found the small looking cabin to be attached to a much larger underground compound. 

The task force infiltrated the structure with trained precision, John moving like a ghost through corridor after corridor, quietly dispatching guards as he scanned each room for any sign of Santino D’Antonio. On his eighth corridor, he finally caught a glimpse of unruly brown curls behind a small window on iron doors. As he moved to open the door, it opened from the inside, revealing a large man with a gun drawn. John quickly dropped to his knee as he put a bullet into the large man’s head through his jaw. Dispatching of two more guards inside the cell before finally catching a break to come face to face with a wide eyed Santino.

John placed a hand on Santino’s shoulder, steadying him as he quickly removed the Italian’s constraints. The younger man’s tense muscles relaxed somewhat as he felt the gag being cut away, soothed under the weight of John’s hand on his shoulder, but his intense eyebrows immediately knotted together as he tried taking a step only to fumble. John caught the man before he could fall, holding onto his torso as Santino clung to his shoulders for support. John eyed the usually graceful man with concern, his tired eyes looked more sunken in than usual and he had cuts on his face, but whatever other injuries that must have been inflicted on him were hidden under his tailored three piece suit.

“Don’t worry, John,” Santino managed to choke out, lips turning upwards in a self-mocking smirk, “it’s all that terrible pasta they were feeding me, it got my knees wobbly to think about it.”

“They beat you.” John stated. His eyes careful to catch the little winces in Santino’s expression as he tried putting any weight on his right leg.

“No way, what gave it away?” Santino retorted as he leaned heavily on John, “Let’s get out of here already, everything stinks.”

John nodded as he supported Santino, half carrying the hobbling man out of the cell while careful to keep his gun hand free. Gunshots further down the corridor suggested trouble, and John angled his body so that Santino was behind him, his eyes focused on the turn of the corridor.

A figure swerved around the corner and into his line of fire, John gave a relieved sigh as he recognized Ares’ blond hair.

“We’re all clear” Ares signed, hurrying over to help support Santino up, “Straight to the exit.”

The three didn’t waste any more words before reaching the car waiting outside to take them to a waiting helicopter. Santino’s every moment betrayed how much pain he was in, even though he was careful not to show any of it on his face as he fought to keep consciousness. Watching him, and feeling how heavily the younger man was leaning and relying on him to keep himself upright, John fought the urge to simply haul him over his shoulders and carry him out to simplify the process.

Once safely placed in the sedan, Santino blacked out.

#

Light filtered through the fuzziness that clouded Santino’s brain. He vaguely registered the windows of his bedroom in Naples, and the familiar scent in the air brought him a peace of mind.

Grunting, he flexed his hand muscles, shutting his eyes and feeling the real world return to him bit by bit through the feeling of the cool sheets under him. He could feel the bandages on his arms and torso. One of his legs seems to be weighed down by a cast. Carefully, Santino tried propping himself up with his arms before a sharp pain in his elbow forced him down again.

“I wouldn’t recommend moving much right now.” Said a cool voice by the door. Santino turned slowly to look at the figure of John Wick, standing with military posture by his bedroom door, watching over him carefully.

Santino was too tired to glare, so he simply commanded. “Come over here and prop me up with some pillows, then. I’m sick of being horizontal.”

John complied, gathering a few cushions and placing a hand on Santino’s back to help him sit upright before letting him lean gently on the pillows. The older man’s features were softened by the filtered light coming through the windows, and his surprisingly gentle touch made Santino’s mouth suddenly go dry.

“John…” Santino had half a mind to lay his desires bare before catching himself, instead asking “how long have I been asleep for?” There was a time and place for lust, and Santino could tell the time wasn’t right yet.

“One and half days. Most of it was drug induced, though. Gianna’s birthday party took place as planned in your absence.”

“Disgraceful. Me, bedridden?” Santino bit out.

“Your body needs time to heal.” John replied.

“Please, as if you have ever given your body the proper rest it needs after getting injured.” Santino retorted, eyeing the man’s strong frame, the memory of John bodily holding him up back in the Konstanze cabin burned at the back of Santino’s mind.

John’s gaze lingered on his face a moment longer than usual, before he turned away, “I’ll get you some water.” He offered simply.

Santino watched as John retreated from his room, unsure if his drug induced brain had imagined the fondness that had shown on the older man’s face.

#

Santino spent the next few weeks constrained to the villa for the sake of his recovery. Although most of his bruises and cuts have healed and faded, his leg needed a full five weeks before the doctor would let him take the cast off. John had been there the first day, but after that Santino could only catch glimpses of him every now and then, it seemed that he was going on missions separate from protecting a bedridden Santino.

Santino had hoped to have the grim man’s company, teasing him would have been the perfect remedy for healing. Yet he was stuck with the company of books, and after some light persuasion, Santino had managed to convince Ares to teach him how to throw knives.

On the day his cast was finally to be removed, Gianna arrived with a vibrant bouquet of flowers, congratulating him on finally being free from “house arrest”.

“Don’t rub it in now,” Santino grunted at her, eyeing her ever present retainer Cassian, and wondered why John couldn’t have the same level of presence in his own life.

As if reading his mind, Gianna smiled. “The Konstanze family put up a fight, after they got you out of the Alps. Their network ran hazardously all over Italy, so it took some time to take care of all of them.” She carefully studied his face for the next bit of information she divulged, “Your John was very… eager to volunteer to be going after the scattered Konstanze groups. He has singlehandedly wiped out the whole Southern faction in the past few weeks.”

Despite himself, Santino’s eyes gleamed at his sisters words. How delightful.

Gianna’s smile widened as she caught her brother’s reaction. “They say he’s quite the demon out for blood, it’s been very effective in instilling fear into other rival clans too. The Baba Yaga, out there killing in your name, dear brother. What a beast you’ve tamed.”

“It’s not so much taming as it is his own professional urges, I suspect.” Santino tried to downplay his own elation at hearing this news, “His pride probably just didn’t take well to people slighting him by attacking me.”

“Oh really now.” Gianna laughed, “He should be coming back to the villa tomorrow, from what I’ve heard. Do enjoy your healed leg.” She no longer bothered to hide her amusement; after all, Santino was fully aware of her and Cassian’s “professional relationship” too.

#

As Gianna predicted, John quietly returned to the villa the next morning. The man’s movements were brisk as he exchanged updates with Ares in the living room, who seemed to have gained a little more respect towards the sullen man after the events of the past few weeks. If nothing else, the tasks he’d performed for the D’Antonio family had certainly surpassed even Mr. D’Antonio senior’s expectations when he hired John.

Santino waited for John in his study, sitting by a large wooden desk and lazily flipping through books which he had already read. Sunlight shone brightly through windows by a balcony, the door to which was propped open to let in a gentle breeze. Santino looked up slowly when John entered the room, closing the door behind him quietly.

“Long time no see, John.” Santino said, closing the book he held and setting it down, “I head you’ve been busy.”

“Yeah.” John carefully held Santino in his gaze. For a moment it seemed like John was going to leave it at that, but then he added, “You look well.”

Santino’s lips curled into a smirk, he made a show of stretching out his long legs under the table. “It helped to hear that you’d been exacting vengeance on my behalf, did wonders for my mood.” He purred out.

John didn’t reply. He hadn’t thought clearly of why he was eager to wipe out the Konstanze clan, only acting on instinct and what he thought was professionalism. But now that he was face to face with the young D’Antonio again, he realized that perhaps the strong protectiveness he felt towards his ward was not fully out of strict professionalism.

That was a troubling thought.

Santino however, seemed encouraged by John’s silence. He carefully stood up and strolled towards the taller man, slowly tracing a finger lightly down black lapels. “You’re a disciplined man, John, but I know you’re not blind to all my… _efforts_ since you started working.” Santino purred out, “You should know that I’m not ungrateful for all you’ve done.” His finger stopped at the first button of John’s suit, tugging at it as he looked up at John through hooded eyes. The dark eyes that looked back at Santino seemed razor focused, taking in every detail of the Italian that was now leaning closer and closer. John could feel Santino’s light breath on his face, and his eyes flitted down to the man’s plush lips, lingering before his last bit of self-restraint crumbled away.

John closed the distance between them, kissing Santino deeply as the other man growled in response, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. Santino grabbed onto John’s suit for balance as the taller man backed him into the wooden table, not breaking contact as his lips devoured Santino’s with licks and bites.

Santino wasted no time, one hand snaking behind John’s head and running through his hair, messing up the gels that held the tufts in place. His other hand palmed appreciatively across the expanse of John’s strong chest, sliding lower and lower until it found perch on his hips.

“John, bed.” Santino managed to choke out as John pushed their bodies flush, each man straining against the other for more friction as their growing bulges rubbed against each other. At Santino’s reminder of the existence of his bedroom, John lifted the smaller man up by his hips and carried him over, Santino appreciatively wrapping his legs around the larger man and biting down on the juncture between his neck and shoulder. John groaned as he deposited Santino onto the bed, watching the man lick his lips, eyes still trained on the spot he’d be biting a moment ago. The promise of a mark was beginning to form on John’s pale skin.

John stood over Santino for a brief moment, eyes taking in the scene of the beautiful man below him, hair ruffled, clothes rumpled out of their usual crisp condition, lips parted and red from kissing, and eyes filled with desire. Humming appreciatively, John leaned down to help Santino efficiently remove his pants and shoes while the Italian’s nimble fingers made quick work of his shirt buttons, discarding the rest of his suit and baring his smooth skin. John kissed his way up his lover’s toned thighs, mouthing at the bulge between his legs while Santino propped himself up on his elbows and stared intently at the way John’s hair fell in disarray in front of his eyes.

John looked up from his position to match the Italian’s lust filled gaze. He roughly palmed Santino through his underwear, making the smaller man hiss and throw his head back, exposing the flesh of his neck. John quickly removed Santino’s last piece of clothing, and moved up to press his body against Santino as he bit down sharply on Santino’s shoulders, clouded with a possessive desire to mark the man as his. The younger man moaned at the feeling of John biting and licking his skin, careful not to go above where a collar would not cover. John’s free hand tugged at Santino’s length, teasing and not applying enough pressure for satisfaction. Santino dug his nails into John’s shoulders but his fingers only met the cloth of John’s shirt. The fucking Bogeyman was still almost fully dressed, much to Santino’s distaste.

“John,” Santino breathed out between low whines, his legs kicking in protest, “If you don’t take your clothes off soon I’m going to tear it to shreds.”

“I’d like to see you try.” John growled out, the corners of his lips turning up in the faintest hint of a smile. Santino’s stomach tightened, but he did not protest further as John complied with his demand and started removing his own clothing. Bruised flesh presented themselves to Santino, cuts and scars ran across John’s strong torso, and Santino could not help but reach out to gently caress and kiss the purple and green marks on John’s body, feeling the muscles underneath tense and then relax under his touch.

These were marks John took for him. For Santino.

“Fuck me, John.” Santino growled into the man’s ear. He felt John’s movements still for a second, before being shoved down into the mattress, held firmly by a large hand at his shoulders while the faint sound of a bottle of lube being opened registered in his mind. Santino grinned as he watched the older man press down on him once again, a slicked finger prodding and then entering him, making him shudder and arch into the touch, his own cock dripping over his stomach. A second finger soon joined the first inside Santino, making him clench his jaw and curse. John caught his mouth in a pressing kiss as he massaged the man underneath him open, sliding in a third finger and stifling the moan that came out of Santino with his own mouth. Santino writhed underneath him, legs spread and panting, “Come on,” he pleaded.

John’s eyes clouded over at the sight of Santino, his own cock pulsing between their stomachs. An animalistic snarl came out of him as he lined himself up with Santino and roughly pushed in, drinking in Santino’s loud unabashed moans. The heat around him felt so perfect, and after months of holding himself back at the Italian’s thinly veiled flirting, the buildup of tension broke like a dam as John fucked into Santino, bracing himself with one arm and gripping onto lithe hips with the other. Santino’s head turned as he moaned and panted into a pillow, feeling the fullness of John’s thick cock inside him, grabbing onto the sheets and clawing at John’s thighs with his hands, desperate to hold onto something as John pounded into him relentlessly.

John hissed as Santino raked his fingernails down his thighs, leaving lines of red marks. He trained his gaze on Santino’s clear green eyes, drank in the sight of his flushed face and swollen lips, beads of sweat forming above his thick arching brows. Santino moaned his name as John hit the sweet spot inside him that made him squeeze his eyes shut, gasping as John was attentive to angle each of his thrusts thereafter to hit the same spot over and over again, sending Santino over the edge, body arching gracefully as he came with a cry. John fucked him through the high, burying his own head in the crook of Santino’s neck as he followed, his own orgasm shaking his body.

Santino let out a grunt as John laid down on top of him, their bodies still connected. The weight of John’s body felt good, but Santino feebly complained anyways. “You’re too sweaty for this, and heavy.”

“Uh huh.”

Santino gave up on his weak protests and turned his head to kiss John’s sharp cheeks instead, mouthing his ear while his hand drew circles on the man’s tattooed back.

“I don’t think the doctor intended for me to do this as soon as my cast came off.” Santino mused.

John huffed, “It’s your hips you should be worried about now, not your leg.”

Santino laughed. A clear, bell like laugh that rang in the room. “Are you trying to tell a joke, John?” He grinned as he ran his fingers through John’s now messy dark hair.

John didn’t answer, but he did smile.

Of all the unexpected things in his life, this was the most rewarding by far, John thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, it’d make more sense to just kill Santino rather than kidnap him, but we’re not here for the politics, we’re here for the hurt & comfort cliché, boys.
> 
> Please leave a comment it’s my first time writing and im baby  
accompanying art: https://twitter.com/volky888/status/1160194060633686017
> 
> twitter @ volky888  
curiouscat @volky888


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